


Five Times Connor McKinley Hid His Stimming From Kevin Price + One Time Kevin Price Helped

by afalsehetero



Category: The Book of Mormon - Ambiguous Fandom, The Book of Mormon - Parker/Stone/Lopez
Genre: 5 Times, 5+1 Things, ?? - Freeform, Autism, M/M, Poptarts is a good person, Slow Burn, as slow burn as a six chapter fic can be, autistic headcanon, autistic!Connor, basically: projecting my autism onto a special interest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2019-04-18 00:48:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14201328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afalsehetero/pseuds/afalsehetero
Summary: ON WHAT THE KIDS CALL A HIATUSConnor McKinley is autistic. He willgo on his mission, baptise at least seven Ugandans, and return home to bask in the accessibility of stim toys in Utah._____________This will definitely, absolutely, without a doubt be the most self-indulgent fic you've ever read. I'm autistic, and this fic came from two things:seeing BOM with Stevie as McKinley in Londonseeing Pierce Cassedy (who I also LOOOOVE in Something Rotten) and his little idiosyncrasies.





	1. 1: Kevin catching Connor outside after curfew

**Author's Note:**

> 1: Kevin catching Connor outside after curfew.
> 
> So! We're here! I wanted to finish the fic before publishing but my style of writing just sort of fucked itself in the arse and flipped it so: feedback very much appreciated for this new style? (Not that you read my old one, but still...)  
> TWO THINGS I WANT TO STRESS:  
> ONE: this is one portrayal of autism, based on my own experiences as an autistic person. All autistic people are NOT the same!!  
> TWO: I don't have a beta reader and my type of writing is no plan, no editing, fuck it, so if you spot any mistakes, let me know!

Uganda had taken a lot of adjusting to. Considering taking Connor out of Utah was h-e-double hockey sticks, taking him and putting him in another country without anyone from his family was...something worse. Three months had passed though, and he’d say he was getting the hang of it. Elder McKinley, District Leader McKinley- he was in charge, which gave him some breathing room. It meant he wouldn’t have to suffer due to someone else’s control. Sure, he broke some of his own rules, but he’d be having a meltdown every day if he didn’t. He’d brought some comfort objects, and he went out into the small living area each night to take in the silence.

Connor’s first special interest was stars. His mom used to say his freckles were where stars had come down and decided to stay on his skin. His favorite constellation was obviously Virgo, because he was one himself. During their first few weeks there, Connor used to sit  _ only just a little bit _ outside the door, arms wrapped tight around himself as he tried to spot constellations. It was a lot easier in Uganda than in Utah. He didn’t worry about Elder Thomas stopping him either- Connor’s mom was the one who told him at the airport about him being ‘off in his own little world.’ Despite it making absolutely no sense, he wished it were true sometimes.

So Uganda got easier. The first month dragged, and the second one flew by. At the end of their third month there, Connor was absolutely freaking out. New recruits. New missionaries. He’d only just gotten used to the dynamics here and now two more  _ completely unpredictable _ people were coming. Desperate letters were written to his brother Aaron, who duly wrote back that he shouldn’t be worried (because that was great advice) and Kevin Price was apparently the best in his class. (No word of his partner though, leaving Connor on edge still.)

The day came. Connor put on a brave face that morning. His tie was fixed about ten times, fingers (which he barely realised were his own) shakily flying over the fabric until he was /finally/ satisfied with the double Windsor knot. He polished his shoes, his belt, his name tag. Literally anything that could be done  _ was _ done, just so Connor could stop himself from overthinking an encounter that hadn’t even happened yet. The general atmosphere of their hut had shifted because of it.

“Elder McKinley, you don’t need to do all of this just because of the new recruits. I’m sure they’ll love it here just as much as we do already!” Elder Church had beamed, placing a friendly hand on his shoulder.

“It’s quite okay, Elder.” Connor had snapped out almost robotically, continuing to sort the few books they had. Having already cycled through author’s last name; author’s first name; first letter of title, and height, he’d gone onto spine color. Connor needed to calm down. He needed to get up, and scream and rock back and forth and dance and do everything he couldn’t do here. He needed something to chew  _ other than _ his nails- if they could even be called that at this point- and he needed his weighted blanket. Sure, the one he’d sewn with rice and sheets was okay but he needed  _ his _ .

With the day dragging on, Connor’s anxiety only increased. He was sure he’d had a heart attack or a stroke or something, since his heart felt like it was beating so hard it would burst out of his chest any second now. The other elders all but forced him and Poptarts to stay home, since Connor had almost fainted about twice. Yes, he knew they meant well. But he would’ve preferred to have something to do rather than sit around waiting for the two new boys.

 

Lunch came. No sign.

The elders returned. No sign.

 

Dinner. No sign.

 

Maybe they weren’t coming? No, that couldn’t be right. He’d known for almost as long as they’d been there. Elders Price and Cunningham would be coming. It wasn’t like their plane would be delayed because of snow or anything.

Curfew was drawing closer and closer, and they all knew it. Connor took it upon himself to clean again, and the Elders’ protests were quickly silenced by Poptarts’ raised eyebrow. He needed to pray, too, and thank Heavenly Father for giving him a mission companion as great as Elder Thomas. Connor would have to venture out into the city and find a box of his namesake in thanks.

Their clock chimed ten times, and a hush fell over the room as all eyes were on Connor, waiting expectantly. “Well,” he cleared his throat, “I think that breaking curfew,” fixed his tie nervously, “will be fine  _ just this once _ , Elders. But only as long as we all go to bed as soon as they arrive. It can’t be long now!” Connor beamed, his outward cheer the very opposite of how he felt.

Finally the two elders came.

(Did Connor mention he was gay?)

Kevin Price’s presence filled the room, and there was something about it that choked Connor. Like his mom would back at home, he whisked everyone off to bed, and moved to sit outside the hut’s door in the night air. This was what he’d needed all day. Silence, space, and solidarity.

Bringing his knees to his chest, Connor wrapped his arms around himself and squeezed, rocking slightly. Sometimes, if they went to Kampala, the planets were visible in the night sky. Mercury tended to be visible early on in the evening, as did Venus. Neptune and Uranus were just a little later. Jupiter was from about 11pm, whereas Mars was later (or earlier, depending on how you put it) and Saturn was visible from about 2am most days.

He couldn’t see any planets here.

 

“October 7th 1982, March 12th 1987, January 9th 1988, June 10th 2003, March 24th 2011.” Connor was humming softly between dates. He may not have been alive for a few of them, but he was invested in them by now. Wholly invested- in fact, a little too invested.  His fingers had a life of their own, repeatedly tapping on his cheek, changing from chord to chord.

The door opened.

Connor didn’t move. Just repeated his dates, rocked a little less noticeably, and moved his fingers to his mouth instead.

A clear of the throat.

“You should be in  _ bed _ , Elder Price.” Connor said, almost desperately. He did not have the energy right now.

“I could say the same to you.” Well, that was true. Connor let his head fall, hiding his face in his knees.

“I need to be out here, Elder. If you can give me a viable reason as to why you need to be out here, then stay all you like.” he turned to glimpse at Kevin with one eye, looking him up and down. They were both still in uniform; only difference was the permanent creases from Connor’s methodical folding.

“I think I’ve done something to upset you, Elder McKinley. Either that, or I make you anxious, or uncom—“

“You do.”

Probably the wrong thing to say in hindsight. Kevin looked a little shocked, and ready to cry. He still looked beautiful, obviously. Just...sadder. Like in those awful romance movies, Connor thought, where someone always dies, only to not have actually died.

“I’m not dying.” Connor offered, cheeks tinged obviously red in the moonlight. How was it that he’d managed to navigate through every conversation he’d had here  _ reasonably _ well, yet Elder Price turned up and now he was making boys cry. “Not yet, anyways. To be honest, we're all dying right now, and we're dying until we die."

Elder Price was looking at him like he was deranged.

"I just...you’re not the only one who makes me anxious. Everyone does at first. Elder Cunningham makes me very anxious. You have,” he cleared his throat, playing with his fingers and looking back up at the stars, “quite the mission companion. He’s very loud. Boys make me anxious in general, especially loud ones and/or attractive ones. You fit into one of those categories.”

Oh.

“Thank you, Elder Price. Goodnight, Elder Price. Go to bed, Elder Price.” Connor swallowed, pausing between each sentence as he rushed inside to his bed.

He was not going to survive the rest of his mission.   
  



	2. Kevin finding Connor without his temple garments

Kevin Price wasn’t making Connor’s life easier. And it was killing him.

(Not literally, of course. But all the other elders had taken to their latest addition. Even Poptarts had promised that Connor would be able to get along with Kevin if he just tried.)

Just trying really wasn’t that simple at all. Trying required wanting to try, which required thinking about it, which required energy. Connor barely had enough energy to get through each day as it was, let alone  _ spare _ energy to deal with Kevin.

Rules, on the other hand, were easy. Especially a set of his own. (Poptarts helped. But mostly his own.)

_ Connor James McKinley’s rules concerning a certain Kevin Price: _

  1. Don’t be alone with him.
  2. If the above does happen, you’re an idiot. But try to not let it happen.
  3. Don’t do the thing where you stare at him. (Because you do. A lot. It happened with Steve too and we both know what happened there.)
  4. Don’t start rambling because you’ll almost definitely move onto how beautiful you find him.
  5. Try to avoid having to speak to him alone.



They’d worked so far. It had only been a week, yes, but Connor had been slightly more comfortable in their hut. He had different projects to focus on too, which helped.

One of the villagers had had a baby boy before any of them arrived. He was four now.

Naba had come to learn (courtesy of the best mission companion in the world) that sometimes Connor thought differently to them- and not just because he was white. She told the rest of the villagers as kindly as she could.The boy hadn’t started speaking yet. Gotswana wasn’t a psychologist. It was easy to see where this went.

Connor was overjoyed to find a kindred spirit in Uganda, even if it was a four year old boy. He immediately gave up the weighted blanket Naba had helped him make, and occasionally ‘lost’ some of his fidgets and toys while visiting.

Abayomi (or Aba, as they’d both agreed upon) had had a meltdown. Connor was asked to ‘help’ with the fallout afterwards. He agreed.

It was one of the biggest mistakes he’d ever made. Neurotypicals were too damn fussy. They asked him to help. He was trying to help and they told him not that way. He got back to the mission hut just before dinner and skipped it completely, heading straight to his room. He’d been sewing another blanket to replace the one he’d given away. He was nineteen years old. He didn’t need a stupid blanket as much as a four year old boy did.

Sleeping wasn’t the same without it.

At curfew, it was no surprise for Elder Thomas to see McKinley burrowed under his duvet, humming softly as he finished off the final pocket of the blanket.

At 2am, on the other hand, it was definitely a surprise for Elder Price to come to fetch a glass of water, only to be met by Connor asleep on the sofa, finished blanket draped over him. A  _ naked-looking _ Connor.

Sitting up and yawning, Connor wiped his eyes. “Hello, Elder.” he mumbled. “Did I disturb you? I’ll go.”

“Are you naked, Elder McKinley? I mean, your garments...” Kevin gestured to the corner of the blanket closest to him, rubbing a thumb and finger over it.

“No, of course, Elder! See? Socks?” Connor slammed his hand onto the blanket, sticking his feet out and wiggling his toes.

“They’re inside out.”

“Well, I suppose they are. I don’t like the seams on my feet.”

“There’s a hole on the bottom of your foot.”

"I know."

“Are socks all you’re wearing?”

Connor let the lull in their conversation continue for a while. “ Perhaps I am naked without them.”

“Why is this so heavy?”

Oh no. Kevin shouldn’t have been able to feel that pod of rice and beads. It was meant one of the lighter ones for when he put it over his head, and he _ still _ felt it. Why was he so seemingly intent on ruining Connor’s entire life?

“No idea what you’re on about, Elder Price. Maybe you should get that drink.” Connor mumbled, rolling over again. He took a breath in, and shakily let it go. “I’m wearing underwear, by the way. Boxers. I like them being loose. I forgot, which is probably a good thing since it means they’re so comfy.” he smiled, squirming in place.

Holding his breath, Connor heard Kevin fill a cup and drink from it. He shut his eyes and waited until the man was leaving, which felt like forever. Finally, he heard footsteps come back over towards him and Connor cracked an eye open.

“Yes, Elder?”

“Nothing.”

Connor sighed, lifting his blanket. “I’m not naked. Look.”

“I-woah, Elder McKinley, I’m not going to look at that. I mean, I’m sure you are wearing boxers. In fact, I’m sure they’re very nice boxers, but it’s a little inappropriate of me to look at you like that.”

Elder Price was blushing. Connor had made the perfect Kevin Price crumble just a little. And that, in his eyes, made him a little less Super-Mormon, a little less perfect, but a lot more human: that was an achievement.

“Well, maybe look wasn’t the right thing to say. I can wholeheartedly confirm that I, Connor James McKinley, am wearing a pair of dark gray boxer shorts. I think they’re from Walmart, since I hated Target ones, but the label is faded. I’m not wearing my temple garments since the seams are digging in a lot tonight and generally making my skin angry, and I am sleeping under a heavy blanket. I'd get far too hot, possibly develop hyperthermia, and die. Goodnight, Elder Price, it’s late. We’re getting up at 6:30.” 

There went rules 1, 2, and 5. He narrowly avoided breaking rule 4: yes, he’d rambled a little, but he’d kept himself away from talking about how beautiful Kevin was. Instead, he’d just talked about his boxers and how he hated Target, and how he hated his temple garments. So by avoiding a meltdown, he’d broken three of his own rules and some church rules. 

“Oh, I...goodnight, Elder McKinley.”

And was that really any better?


	3. Kevin finding Connor and Poptarts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apologies for the mini hiatus but I am glad to say that this fic is now finished! I'll just be posting with gaps so I don't spam ya like with Fanboy lmao.

_ Before Connor boarded the plane with Chris, he was terrified. He was scratching at his left forearm so much that his mom used The Voice and took him to a first aid bay to clean him up. _

_ “You really need to stop this, honey. You’re not a boy anymore, you’re nineteen.” She had chastised while scrubbing at his arms with ethanol wipes. Connor hated the smell of ethanol, but with his arm bleeding and Chris Thomas looking at him like he was deranged? He’d put up with it. She took his hand and led him back to the Thomases, pink suitcase offensively bright against Chris’ black backpack and gray suitcase. He sat down when prompted to by his mother, drumming on his suitcase in groups of seven beats. _

_ “Connor. Connor. Connor!”   
_

_ “Yes?” he looked up, startled and very uncomfortably meeting the eyes of Chris Thomas and his parents. “Hello.” _

_ “It’s like I said, you mustn’t worry, really,” Connor glanced to his mother, ever the socialite as she smooth talked her way through the conversation. How he envied her. “He just has a few upsets sometimes, don’t you, hon? He's off in his own little world half the time.”  _

_ Connor was stony faced as he lifted his head to four expectant faces, and sighed in acknowledgement. It was only when Chris laughed a little that he broke into a smile, ducking his head down and picking at the bandage seam. _

_ “Don’t do that, baby, that has to last you the whole flight. You remember how long it is, right?” _

_ “21 hours,” Connor grimaced, sitting on his hands, “I know. Three sets of seven and the minutes which we can’t say because then it’ll be too precise of an estimate, and wrong.”  _

_ “Oh, of course! That’s another silly thing he has. Seven is, well, I don’t know, but it’s his lucky number.” His mother was overbearing, despite all of her protests that he was nineteen now, and district leader now, and he had to make his family proud now. Yet here she was, talking all over him. That was her nervous tell. _

_ “Can you tell us about it?” Chris blurted out, wide eyed but still smiling. Connor gave him a huge grin that time, and nodded. His mother looked disheartened and he loved it...perhaps it was harsh, but true. _

_ “Of course! It’s not a luck...well, it can be lucky if you’re rolling two dice, since seven has the highest probability of coming up. It’s not my lucky number, it’s just a  good number. It’s obviously a prime number, because we’ve all been to middle school, but it’s a double Mersenne…” _

_ Then.  That was when Connor decided that he needed Chris Thomas to like him. _

* * *

 

"Chris, I think I'm going to go mad." Connor announced one morning when the other had finally woken up. (They dropped the titles when talking as friends. It helped to differentiate and keep 'District Leader McKinley' separate from 'autistic wreck Connor'.)

"Why?" Chris had barely wiped his eyes and sat up before Connor had fallen onto his bed, blanket wrapped around him like a cape.

It only took one sideways glance to answer that question.

"You know you could try to get on with him, and it'd be fine. Okay, come on, we are going to stay home today. We're going to sit on the couch out there." Chris raised an eyebrow, mustering up all of his authority as he pointed to their living area. "And you and I are going to have a man chat. Man-to-man. It can be emotional if that's gonna be your thing today. If not, leave the cape here and I'll just hold you."

"We're hiding in here until everybody else has gone. I'm not talking to him. He is just..." Connor exhaled slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose. "He's so annoying."

* * *

 

“And that’s why even Kylo Ren would be a better president than...buddy, what are yo-oh. Holy moly, you guys are dating?!”

Kevin thought he’d seen more than he deserved to in Uganda. He’d worked hard all of his life, listened to the bishops, done nothing wrong. Coming to Uganda opened his eyes, and he did not need to see half of the things the villagers displayed. But this? Elders McKinley and Thomas  _ cuddling _ ? It even shut Arnold up, which was something.

Connor gave him one of his ‘mom glares’, as they’d been christened by Elder Church. “No, Elder, we are not dating or anything. We’re talking.”   
“You’re cuddling.”

“Elder Cunningham,  _ please _ . You know we can’t date. Ch-- Elder Thomas is holding me. Friends can do that. And I suppose we’re not talking anymore, but we were before you came in. Elder Price, you are uncharacteristically silent.”

That was fair. Kevin usually would’ve injected at least one venomous comment by now, but he was still trying to wrap his head around the little scene before him. “Is it like the blanket?”

Chris whipped his head up from where it’d been resting on Connor’s shoulder, and a flash of fear went over Connor’s face before he recomposed himself, whispering quietly. “I am nineteen now. I am district leader now. I need to make my family proud now.”

“Hey, Elder Price, maybe you should go now.” Poptarts’ voice was calm, but forceful.

Kevin just folded his arms and rested his weight on one leg lazily. Clearly he’d hit something of a nerve with Poptarts, but that wasn’t going to stop him asking Elder McKinley. “Is it like the blanket?”

“Yes.” Connor’s answer was barely audible and he looked away as soon as he’d...all but spat out the word.

“Kevin, that was uncalled for and you know it.” Chris was standing face to face with Kevin before he’d even realised the boy was standing. Arnold had silently gone to their room, leaving a scared-looking Connor on the couch while Chris stared Kevin down. “You need to apologise to him now, man. That’s not cool, he doesn’t owe you any answers. I stuck up for you, just so you know, but now I agree. You  _ are _ annoying as heck.”

“I didn’t say he owed me any answers, I asked a simple question. And the way you stick up for him, it sure seems like you’re dating!” Kevin sneered, and regretted the words as soon as they’d left his mouth. 

He watched Connor stand, looking hurt and angry and wounded and...confused as he took Chris’ hand and led him from the room briskly, shutting their bedroom door as harshly as he could without breaking it. A few moments later, Kevin could definitely hear the telltale signs of someone crying, and trying to muffle it. Thin walls in their hut were a real privacy problem.

He was an awful person.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry about not originally putting a TW last chapter!! This chapter describes self-injurious behaviors in a little bit of detail!!

Even without a deadline looming over him, Connor had had enough. Enough of Uganda, of sunburned peeling skin, of having to hold everything inside, and he’d definitely had enough of stupid Elder Price. Then, of course, the man had to go and worm his way into his Hell dreams.

He was at his breaking point, and was getting close to hurting himself with his stimming. He just needed an outlet, and perhaps scratching at his forearms and neck until they bled wasn’t his brightest idea, but it was better than screaming at the other Elders and starting disagreements. Besides, Chris knew. Chris helped him clean himself up before bed. Chris was the one who went to see Aba and ask if he could possibly just have a few toys back for Connor.  
That was the sweetest thing Chris could’ve done, and he was surprised it worked, considering none of the others ever went with him to see Aba. However, even after he’d cleaned it, Connor couldn’t bring himself to use his chew. It would just...give everything away: it would reveal everything he’d been working so hard to hide, and he was already struggling with that thanks to Elder Annoying.

The chew went back into his suitcase, glaringly orange amongst his numerous white shirts and black trousers. Then went the fidget cube, after Elder Cunningham saw it and wanted to show it to Elder Price. After about a week, Connor had hidden everything away but one Tangle. It kept his hands occupied, and that was what he needed in order to not scratch himself up again.   
Of course, Kevin had to ruin that as well.

Connor was extremely busy while working through the various tasks he had to do. He had to reply to the mission president, he had to sort their funds out, he had to do this, do that, and a thousand other things that had just popped up out of nowhere! He even stayed home alone- breaking rule 72, just to keep his remaining sanity, and to finish all of this dang paperwork in time.

“Where’s Elder Thomas?”

Connor thought his day couldn’t have gotten any worse. He dropped his hand from the desk to under his leg, which was bobbing up and down. “Not here. Where’s Elder Cunningham?”

“Not here. What was that blue thing?”

“You are...annoyingly perceptive, Elder Price.” Connor sighed, gripping at his pen so tightly that- somewhere, in the back of his mind- he registered the plastic crack.

He wanted to kiss the smug little grin off of his face. How he wished he could do that right now- just to see how Elder Price would react.

“But are you going to tell me what it was? You’re hiding it.” Kevin’s voice was lilted, light and teasing and gosh, he hated it. But he also hated how much he loved it.

Slowly, carefully, Connor lifted his hand and slammed it onto the desk as he inhaled sharply. “Okay? I know I shouldn’t have it but I needed it, are you happy now? Perhaps you haven’t noticed that I’ve worn long sleeved shirts lately, but I have and I absolutely hate them, but I have to do it! My arms,” he paused to unbutton the cuffs of his sleeves and roll them up, “are all scraped up thanks to me, and if I don’t have this, they’re only going to get worse. So I’m sorry that I’m breaking some rules, but if I don’t, I may as well lose my mind. Yes?”

In hindsight, he shouldn’t have been so aggressive. There were a million better ways to word it, and now Kevin was going to hate him, and Connor was stuck pretending to totally hate him when he really only didn’t like how intrusive he could be.

He’d done it though. It was stupid. None of the other Elders (apart from Chris, who didn’t count because they were friends too) knew about his little problem, so saying that he needed it probably had no effect on Kevin.

Kevin’s mouth was open. He was looking at Connor’s arms for an uncomfortably long time. “You did that?” he finally said, looking...sad, and pale, and a little bit sick. “Really? You did that?”

Connor nodded, lifting his hand up to gently throw the toy over to him. “So, if it’s not that, it’s more of this.” he then loosened his tie and unbuttoned his top button to show more on his neck. “Chris prefers the first, and I have to say that so do I.” he watched a little helplessly as Kevin fidgeted with his Tangle, brows furrowed slightly.

“Why did you do that to yourself?”

Silence.

“Elder McKinley.”

More silence.

“Connor.” 

“I have a condition in my brain. And...um, well, I have a tendency to panic a lot. And I have things I can do to calm myself down- normally, they don’t hurt! But they can be bad sometimes. It’s, um, sort of like clasping my hands, or wearing my blanket or flapping, or—“

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me.” Kevin interrupted, hands up in surrender. Connor then stopped, crossing his arms and making what he hoped was an impatient face. “I just… I think I get it. Maybe. It sounds familiar so, you know, it’s okay. I’m okay with you having this. I’m not going to go run off telling people. Thank you for telling me.”

Connor caught the Tangle, winding it around his fingers again and flashing a smile at Kevin. He didn’t know when his brain made the shift from calling him Elder Price to calling him Kevin, but he wasn’t opposed to it. “You’re welcome. Thank you for...I’m not sure what, actually, but I just feel like it needs saying.”

Kevin laughed a little, looking down. He was...shy? Kevin Price was acting shy. “They’re pretty cool anyways. I’m glad they help whatever you need help with.”

Connor laughed too, smiling as his face flushed slightly. He glanced at Kevin briefly before looking back at his shoes, wiggling his toes inside of them. “So, I’m going to…”

“Wait. Let me help you.” Connor was definitely surprised to hear him offer help. Kevin had taken a step forward, and now looked more hopeful as he waited for an answer.

“It’s fine, I don’t want to bore you, plus you’ll get really annoyed by, well, me. Everything.”

Two tan arms were suddenly wrapped around him, holding tight and swaying gently. Connor cleared his throat.

Kevin looked slightly taken aback when he realised he was still holding onto Connor. (He wanted him to hold on and not let go until they got back to the States, but that definitely wasn’t happening.)

“Oh- I...sorry. I mean, I said it was familiar because of my brother and he used to...really like it when I did that so. It was inappropriate, I’m sorry. Plus I obviously saw you, and said the wrong things so..I’ll stop talking now.” he laughed shyly, dropping his arms to his sides. “What I’m trying to say is that it doesn’t annoy me. And it won’t, and I don’t want you to think that I’ll treat you differently. So…”

“So?”

“Which forms do I fill in?”


End file.
